I’ve been obsessed with The L Word for a month. I couldn’t wait for its Season two DVD which would not be released till this Sept in Britain, and have ordered it from the states. Many people say it portrays the gay life in LA so real. I have no idea about what those lezs are like in LA ‘cus I have never been there, but this won’t discourage me from loving the show so much. I just love it, I love the mise-en-scène, I love the costumes, I love its soundtrack. I feel so happy to see a bunch of such saucy ladies hanging out together in the scene. It reminds me of the old days when I hanged out with my girlfriends in the high school. I miss it lots, I do… My age of innocence. Below are the quos from the Season one. Some of these storylines make me laugh, some make me meditate. Not every drama has lines that would even make sense nowadays. One more thing, Jennifer is sooooooo f***ing hot!!! I couldn’t believe that I’d never noticed her before the show. And Portishead is such a great band. The song Roads fits so well in the background, and I just absolutely love it, though I admit that I didn’t like the album when I first heard it. Well, I guess that’s what makes them great. Time will tell.

 

“Sexuality is fluid. You just go with the flow.”

 

“The penis, the pussy, the baby.”

 

“Cold in the streets, hot in the sheets.”

 

“It’s the ‘Last time I and you’….She photographed the same woman for twelve years. Can you imagine that? I mean…can you imagine… the act of looking? And looking and seeing and re-seeing…just to try to get to the truth of someone.”

 

“My head throw back, I let my gaze dwell on the ceiling. I underwent the profoundest experience of ecstasy I had ever encountered. I had attained that supreme degree of sensibility where the divine intimations of art merge with the impassioned sensuality of emotion.”

 

“It’s all about trust. You don’t trust her, you don’t marry her.”

 

“Commitment is dreary.”

 

“You do your best work when you lay bare your remarkable emotions.”

 

“So, what do you want to know about lies, my dear? I’ll tell you about lies. There are white lies and black lies, and many shades of grey lies. But some lies are justified, lies told out of kindness, lies that preserve dignity, lies that spare pains. Everybody’s a liar, dear. Look at that one, she’s about to tell her lover something patently untrue. Look at their gestures. They touch each other too intimately. They avert their eyes and cover their mouths. They lick their teeth and hold their chins. They embellish their stories with far too much detail.”

 

“You can’t expect every story you write to fall out of you and be gold. Writing is rewriting. It doesn’t make you less talented.”

 

“An African-American? Because of that I’m supposed to feel closer to this child? Because all of us blacks are somehow connected? We can be traced back to some tribe in Africa where we were beating drums?”

 

“When you get two people, they got the same equipment, and they both know how to treat it, how could anybody of the opposite sex compete with that? That’s how they get you.”

 

“We’re progressives, accused of being morally bankrupt, they have skeletons in their closets and we don’t touch them. We take the high road, wind up in the ditch. We leave our dirty laundry hanging out ‘cus we’re not so shamed of it, but they wave it around and make us look like perverts. We have to get into their closets. We cannot afford to be so high-minded. We are getting killed.”

 

“You deserve to be happy. Your happiness is as important as anybody else’s.”

 

“Shane: I had this insane idea that you and I could be together…because it felt real.

 Cherie: It was a delusion.

 Shane: Then I’m delusional. Because I swear you felt the same way about me.”

 Cherie: What if I did? What difference would it make? What if in the time that we spent together I felt more alive than I have in 20 years? What if that were true? Do you think I would leave my husband, my child, my houses in Bel Air and East Hampton, my trips to Paris, my black-tie galas, to run to some…rank little love nest…with a 25-year-old assistant hairdresser who barely has her foot in the door? In this fucking ugly world, that kind of love does not exist!”

                                                 ------ The L Word Season I